They were coming in thicker now. An unhallowed procession of animated corpses beyond counting. Will’s lantern had died at some point, and they fought almost entirely blind. Luckily, the enemy was no better off. Each side fumbled about in the night, no doubt playing out a farcical performance for any omniscient observer.

Will had built them another hardlight shelter. It was holding out well against the press of malformed bodies, but he had already invested most of his AP to keep it standing. He took potshots where he could, blue muzzle flashes lighting up the night. He had used his energy potions and corrosive slime phials. Running on empty.

Nix had killed upwards of a hundred undead by her lonesome, but she was all worn down. He’d never seen a demon tired before. She struggled to hold her form, wobbling on bendy, seemingly boneless legs. They took over when they could to get her time to rest, but it wasn’t much. The amalgams were always on them, each one they killed replaced by another in endless repetition.

They needed her.

So far, she was holding out. But she had been forced to transition from her ranged strategy when the enemy grew too numerous. Instead she lashed out at them with bladed tentacles to keep them at bay, grappling the ones that got too close and squeezing them into a second death. But they were closing in on her now, beating her with clubs and tearing off chunks of dark, bloodless flesh.

Mongrel did what he could. Will had discovered that Detect Life didn’t work on the amalgams. That meant the Concord didn’t count them as being alive, which in turn meant that Mongrel could direct his chimps to use Demolish on them. With each empowered hammer blow, one of the creatures flew into a shower of wet chunks.

When dawn came, bringing a trace of golden light over the dewy and bloodsoaked forest, Mongrel’s Sun Soaked passive triggered, giving him drastically increased AP regeneration. Something like 1 point every 20 minutes wouldn’t be enough, though.

Will’s pistol clicked empty as he aimed it at a headless monstrosity shambling his way. He backed off, fumbled for a spare magazine, and found that he was empty.

The thing was groping for him when Oatmeal stepped up, pressing his shotgun into its chest, and blew a fist-sized hole through it with a deafening boom and a bright-blue flash.

“Thanks, kid,” Will panted.

Oatmeal gave a neurotic, half-weeping laugh as he broke open the barrel of his weapon to reload it.

Will put his pistol away and drew his knife. He only had 3 AP left. Not good for much. He could exhaust his crystals again, but given that he still hadn’t fully recovered from last time, it seemed like a bad idea unless it became absolutely necessary.

Nix was dragged to the ground by four screaming amalgams. While she wrestled them for control, their cohorts stepped over her to get at the rest of the party. Number Three took one apart with Demolish, only to receive a clawed swipe from another amalgam that drove him back, with a third grasping his head and crushing it until reddish pink fluid leaked out. Dead.

Mongrel fired his rifle into the crowd of oncoming enemies, not even needing to aim for every bullet to find a recipient. A section of hardlight on the left shattered, and two amalgams broke through, going for Mongrel. Number Five stepped in to protect his master, swinging his hammer, but the weapon was torn from his grasp and he, in turn, was torn limb from limb.

Fuck.

This is bad. Bad, bad, bad.

Through their bond, Will sensed that Bee wasn’t done in the wayshrine yet. She needed more time.

He wasn't sure how much they could give her.

Then, all at once, the amalgams halted, some stopping mid-swing or freezing in the middle of a bestial roar.

Nix used this brief opening to wriggle free of her captors. With a whirling of arms, she decapitated the three amalgams that stood nearest, and shot out more appendages to impale another four.

The amalgams turned in unison and began to walk away, the fighting completely forgotten. They broke into a slow, shambling run, scrambling over the heaps of their dead and leaving them where they lay.

Will took a moment to catch his breath while he watched them recede among the trees. He only felt a moment’s relief before it was replaced by numbing dread.

“They’ve been called back to defend their master,” he croaked. “We’ve… got to go after them.”

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No one looked too keen on following his command.

“We’re done, brother,” Mongrel said, flopping onto his ass next to Nix, who had collapsed into a weakly shuddering pile of arms. “We’ve given them all the opening we could. Now we have to trust them to finish it.”

Will followed the retreating monsters with a stubborn glare, working his jaw.

Mongrel was probably right. Even if they went after the rest of the amalgams, they wouldn’t be able to do much good in their present state, everyone tapped out and pushed beyond exhaustion. They hadn’t even gotten any sleep that night. The likelihood of casualties would be high.

Still, he didn’t want to think about what would happen if Bee got trapped down there. If she couldn’t find a way out.

Bee, we held them here as long as we could, but they’re heading back to the wayshrine now. How’s it looking on your end?

<>

Of course you’re not. Do you have an exit strategy figured out?

<>

Good. Don’t be stubborn, okay? Focus on getting out alive.

<>

Promise me, stupid.

<>

Will let their connection slip with a sigh. He could only hope that she would be able to handle herself.

*****

Bee dodged a swipe with no clearance to spare, feeling a claw scrape the bridge of her nose. The bear amalgam lumbered towards her—open-mouthed, tongue lolling and dripping with drool.

She stepped under the next swipe and put her axe through the beast’s knee, severing cartilage and bone. It fell forward, clumsily catching itself with hands that were no doubt unfamiliar to it. She raised her weapon to put it through the bear’s skull and finish it off.

It made you weaker. How unsightly.

But more of them poured into the hallway, pushing past the bear, and she was forced to back away. A hand bristling with bird talons grasped for her, and a quick chop severed all its digits. She sidestepped, weaved, brained an amalgam and let go of the axe. The way they were diving on top of her, boxing her in, the brass knuckles would serve her better.

One caught hold of her arm and pulled her forward, right into the waiting jaws of the bear-thing. It clamped down on her shoulder, its teeth grinding through her flesh, and she let out a stifled yell.

One, two, three steel-assisted blows broke the hinge of its jaw, allowing her to wrestle free. She pulled the one still holding onto her off the floor and swung it with all her strength, crashing it into two others.

The fighting quickly devolved into a chaotic mess of moving bodies. There were too many of them to keep track of, let alone dodge. She took a blow to the head that sent her staggering against the wall, then a flurry of claws and teeth that ripped open her clothes and tore ragged lines into her skin.

She gave a blow in retaliation for each one she took herself. She ducked, absorbed a hit to the chin, retaliated with a low kick and a follow-up hook to something that barreled past her too quickly to register.

Probably about time to cut and run, she thought. Should be able to outrun ‘em.

She glimpsed the bear somewhere in the rush of bodies. As unsatisfying as it was, she began to back away.

Sorry, buddy. Tried my best.

Then, all at once, a chorus of discordant howls emitted from the mass of amalgams, along with a sweeping wave of violent spasms and jerky grasping.

Bee approached the nearest one, an ugly fucker with no arms and a huge, anguished face coming out of its torso, with its head a blank nub. She kicked the thing, and it fell over without resistance, shaking on the floor.

“I guess Pigeon must’ve done something,” Bee muttered. She spat blood and stowed away her brass knuckles, opting for the sword.

While they were distracted by whatever collective psychosis they were going through, Bee carved a bloody path. Slashed a throat here, pierced a heart there, hacked indiscriminately at the ones already on the floor.

Above them rose the bear-thing, its shoulders and head brushing the ceiling at full height. It let out a confused, gargling bark, foggy eyes fixed on Bee.

In the pale light of the floating orb, she found that its body was familiar. Muscled, with a thick green hide only sparsely interspersed with fur, and big, stubby fingers at the ends of its ham hands. Bits of brown fabric still clung to it at the arms and legs.

“Aw, man,” she breathed. “That is fucked up.” She stepped towards the unholy fusion of bear and troll. “C’mon, pal. Let’s get you sorted.”

Gug-bear lowered itself onto hands and knees, its injured leg splayed at an awkward angle. With a growl that almost became a sob, it bared its throat to Bee.

Then an amalgam rose up next to it, and the Gug-bear slammed the creature’s head into the wall with an open palm, sending bloody gore flying. Another that wriggled towards Bee over the floor got a cinder block of a foot to the neck.

Gug-bear raised its bloody muzzle towards her once more. Silent.

“Friend,” she said, and a hesitant smile reached her lips.

She couldn’t tell if it was some piece of Gug or the bear that was exerting its will, but either way she was glad for the help.

When more amalgams poured into the hallway, dazed but doggedly determined, Gug-bear heaved itself to its feet with a squelch from its ruined knee. It faced them down, bigger than any of them, and took up most of the hallway so that they could not pass.

Thank you, Bee thought as she turned to run the other way. Both of you.